A True Sith
by Feenacanyon
Summary: A young sith apprentice, Tek Arun, learns what it means to be a true sith. One shot set in SWTOR period.


Tek pulled his arms up with great effort; his body didn't want to follow his commands. The storm outside his Master's tent was in full swing, lightning and thunder crashing above the jungle. Each flash caused Tek to flinch; an all too vivid reminder of what he had just endured. His master, lord Tarious, had been called away; the only reason Tek was alive right now. Apparently Darth Arnought was back on the holo. Maybe Tek would get lucky and Arnought would kill Tarious, but Tek wasn't going to count on luck. Tarious would certainly kill _him_ when he got back—or finish, rather. Tek dug his fingers into the dirt and forced himself to roll onto his stomach, pushing himself up and then pulling himself to stand with a table providing support. What should he do? He couldn't just walk out; all the troopers had seen and heard the exchange. Tek looked around frantically, keeping balance by leaning on the table. His lightsaber was gone; Tarious had taken it. His body wanted to collapse back down but another strike of lightning pushed him to action. He grabbed his Master's dark cloak from the bed and heaved it on as he knelt - more accurately fell - at the back of the tent and started tugging at the bottom of the tent's wall. Lord Tarious' tent had been placed on the edge of the camp to diminish disturbances to the Sith. Tek got it up enough for his tiny frame to fit through and slipped out into the muddy underbrush, crawling until he was a few yards away from the Imperial camp. More lightning. He was up –jogging, no—running. His breathing was fast and shallow, partly because it hurt and partly due to stress. Tek bolted between the trees, clumsily crashing through bushes, sliding over rocks and slipping under branches and vines. More than once he scraped or scratched himself.

The Sith were right about one thing, fear does bring power, inasmuch as it brings adrenaline. But adrenaline runs out. Tek slowed, only occasionally starting to run again when a particularly bright flash of lightning spurred him on or he became aware enough of the sounds in the forest to start wondering at their source. His master was an expert in the force and could make himself practically invisible to the unobservant. Tek was a Sith as well and should be able to sense his master's presence, but the mind of a 12 year old that has nearly been killed by his master just a few minutes - or had it been hours? - before isn't the most reasonable. Fears that he would pause to rest only to find his master right on his heels plagued him and so he pushed on. Anger slowly started to form. This was insane! He was a Sith, the son of Sith, and purebloods at that. That lord Tarious would turn on him over something as paltry as an embarrassment was…. Tek growled in anger, before silencing himself lest _something_ hear him. All he'd done was tell Darth Arnought the truth about his stupid plan, Tarious surely had been thinking it as well. And what had they done? Darth Arnought had hit lord Tarious through the force, sending the lord into a pile of boxes in front of the whole Imperial trooper squad. _"Teach your apprentice his place!"_ Tek knew in that moment he had made a serious mistake, but he hadn't realized _how_ serious until he'd been dragged through the camp by lord Tarious to his tent. Tek had seen force lightning only twice in his life, and even those had not been up close. Regardless, nothing would have prepared him for feeling it. He moved a little faster at the memory. If he died tonight, he didn't want it to be like that _._

The rain was still going strong, if less wind driven. The lightning had mostly stopped, and the night of the jungle under a sky full of thick clouds was truly dark. Tek was concentrating on his feet, trying to avoid falling _again_. All at once there seemed to be too much light. Tek blinked against it and raised a bloodied arm to block the light from his face.

"Don't move!" A voice called; distorted. A helmet comm. A soldier. Fear again came rushing to the surface, this time mingling with his anger. He slightly dropped his arm, just enough to see over it. His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw three, four troopers? Republic, not that it mattered now. Tek wished again that he had his lightsaber; he would not fear their blasters then. As it was he found them to be of great concern, or at least he did until the Jedi stepped into view. Even with his lightsaber Tek was aware he hadn't the training yet to take on a full Jedi Knight.

"Who are you, and what are you doing out here?" The trooper in front asked.

Tek was many things, and foolish could perhaps be included in the list, but he wasn't a _complete_ fool. He wasn't going to just tell them he was a Sith.

"None of your business! Be gone!" The troopers eyed each other just slightly. For starters, in the light they had so recently turned on him they were just now realizing the figures' size, and now this child's voice ordering them to 'be gone'? They were for the moment not sure what to make of it.

"I said, piss off!" Tek yelled, though his voice cracked. No one had told him Republic troopers wouldn't respond with cowed silence to being cussed at the way Imperial troopers had always reacted to him. They clicked off the safeties on their weapons in perfect unison. Tek's mind went to his training. He thought he could handle the blasters even without his lightsaber, but the Jedi…. His eyes were on the man's every move. For he was moving, walking forward slowly to stand by the first trooper.

"No need for hostilities, stranger." The Jedi said calmly, even warmly. He was looking at Tek too, although he couldn't see much besides the dark cloak and the glint of the figure's eyes reflecting the lights from the blasters. "I am Jedi Knight Chavier Wreyes," he removed his hood as he spoke, "It's a nasty night, so I assume you wouldn't be walking about without need. We might be able to help." The Jedi wasn't sure he actually believed those words - in fact he thought it much more likely someone out in _this_ jungle at _this_ time of night was up to no good. So did the troopers, but they kept their chatter to their helmets' radios.

"You won't help me." Tek replied abruptly. The Jedi raised an eyebrow. The person hadn't said 'can't'. He tried to sense the figure's emotions through the force. Fear, anger, pain… but no aggression. Well, not the kind born from malice anyway. An important distinction, Wreyes had learned. The driving force behind those eyes was fear.

"Are you so sure? You might be surprised. Unless you're out here looking for Republic personnel to attack, _alone_ , I can see no reason I shouldn't help you." Wreyes' tone was light and teasing. Humor was the antithesis of fear. He adjusted his posture to match. He hadn't actually exposed himself placing his hand on his hip, but it was an open posture meant to portray trust. The figure had been standing stock still for most of this exchange; Wreyes noted with sudden concern that Tek was swaying slightly. Tek dropped the arm he'd been using to block the light and steadied himself on a nearby branch. He'd turned away but not enough; Wreyes could still see a bit of the person's profile. Red skin with small, unusual protrusions around the chin… a pureblood sith. Judging by the height and voice a child at that. Out here? A Sith was the only explanation, but one so young? Alone?

"I am not interested in you lot. Go." The figure was obviously straining to sound composed. Wreyes could still sense tension. He waved the troops back. They eyed him but did not question, they had been under his command long enough to trust that he knew what he was doing.

Tek noted the troops withdrawal and tensed. Was the Jedi removing his people to protect them from attack? To give him space to fight? Tek turned more squarely to face him, although his gut was telling him to run. The Jedi had a lightsaber. Tek couldn't defend against it bare handed; he had not yet learnt how. If he was at a distance, he could dodge the blasters and maybe disappear in the woods. Unless this Jedi was particularly trained in force use? Then—

"How old are you?"

Tek's strategizing was derailed. What kind of ridiculous question was that? Not one to let his mouth get behind his head, he blurted out that very question. The Jedi stifled a laugh, realizing he'd misstepped.

"Look, I know you're a Sith; I can feel it. But you don't seem very interested in fighting us, and I find it hard to believe you're out in this part of the jungle on a mission. There's nothing out here. Our camp is miles away, and so is yours." The Jedi emphasized that last part, seemingly to himself. "So unless you're scouting, like us, except… _alone_ , I have to wonder: what's the deal?"

Tek frowned. He had a pounding headache and frankly just wanted to find somewhere dry to curl up and rest. His fear and anger had been drained by weariness to nothing but frustration. In his somewhat less agitated state he recalled something about Jedi not fighting people who "walked in peace" or some nonsense. He thought that was garbage, of course, but Jedi were reportedly very foolish. Worth a shot if it got this Jedi to leave him alone.

"I don't want any trouble. Go about your scouting and I'll go about my business." Tek raised his hands in something akin to surrender. This exposed his arms; scrapped and cut from his escape. The Jedi frowned now.

"Get into a scrap out here?" he asked.

Tek dropped his arms again swiftly. He didn't want to say he'd fallen and smacked himself into things multiple times. He was also antsy to be moving again, if lord Tarious had followed him Tek's lead was rapidly being eaten up by this interference. "What?! No, I—Look, will you just get out of my bloody way before—" Tek stopped, he didn't want to let on that he was a Sith with no hope of back up.

"Before...?" The Jedi raised an eyebrow and gestured lazily towards the short sith, implying he should continue. Tek would swear he was purposefully doing even that slowly now. And then an idea occurred to him, and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner: _He_ couldn't fight lord Tarious, but a Jedi could. Now that might just work! But—shit. Would he agree to help him only to use him as bait to catch or kill another Sith? What would happen to Tek after that, would he be killed? Or imprisoned in the Republic? _Shit._ His apparently brilliant idea suddenly lost a lot of its shine. Tek slumped, he was exhausted. He just wanted this to be over.

"Are you _late_ for something? Or is something…chasing you?" The Jedi pondered out loud. Tek shifted uncomfortably—unconsciously-at this. The Jedi noticed. The predominant thing he'd felt from this boy was fear. This child was definitely running.

"I'm gonna sit. You wanna sit?" Wreyes moved and sat on a rock to his right. Tek eyed him but did not sit, though he wanted to.

"Look. I don't know what all's going on with you but I got this much: You're running from something; you aren't crazy-gotta-murder-anyone-Republic-I-meet;" Wreyes waved his arms for effect "and you've obviously had a rough night. I myself have a lot of stuff I should be doing right now, like ten things at least, so let's both save some time and energy. Tell me what's going on and I'll help if I can. If I can't, then well, your problems are like _serious,_ man!" Wreyes put up his hands and made a face. Tek snorted, but the laugh was genuine. He hadn't exactly met a lot of Jedi in his life…well, _any_ actually, before tonight. But this guy wasn't too bad. He certainly had a better sense of humor than lord Tarious, at least. Tek didn't think he'd kill him, amazingly, and he was kinda starting to hope he might not even get locked up. If Tek played nice, maybe this guy would actually _help_. Anyway, it came to his tired mind now that if he didn't approach the Republic, what would he do? Live in the jungle for his whole life?

"…Alright then. But I would prefer to be on the move—away from Imperial territory." Tek said. Wreyes nodded. "Fine by me. Wretched night to be trying to scout, anyway." He stood and gestured at the withdrawn troopers to get ready to move out.

Wreyes walked back with Tek following. "Back to base, gents."

"Uh, sir?" The lead trooper from before indicated Tek with his rifle.

"I'll explain later. Don't complain, Vex, you get to go back to bed!" Wreyes smiled. The troops may have had more to say via the comm, but Tek couldn't hear it.

"What's your name?" Wreyes asked.

"I'm Tek Arun."

"Should I call you 'Tek Arun' or…?"

This actually gave Tek pause. His name was hardly ever used in person. He was either 'my lord' to those who were not force users, or 'apprentice' or some other such student title at the academy.

"…Just Tek I guess."

"Alright Tek, so what are you doing out here?"

"Getting away from my Master, lord Tarious. He tried to kill me." Tek said it without much emotion. It wasn't that he didn't have strong feelings on the subject but he was worn-out and Sith killing their apprentices wasn't…well it wasn't exactly unheard of and so the statement was not so shocking for Tek to speak as it was for Wreyes to hear. The Jedi didn't let on to this however.

"Why?"

"Because I told _his_ Master, Darth Arnought, that his plan for us attacking your supply caravan was stupid. It was, too." Tek scowled even as he slipped in the rain soaked moss. Wreyes caught his arm to steady him without comment.

"You told…your master's master that his plan was stupid. And so your master, this Tarious, tried to kill you?" He found this chain of events baffling.

"Yes. Darth Arnought got mad at lord Tarious and hit him in front of the troops. Told him to teach _me_ manners. Tarious isn't much of a teacher." Tek looked at Wreyes for the first time since agreeing to walk with him, a wry expression on his face as he spoke of his master - or former master, rather.

Wreyes liked this kid. "How did you get away?"

Tek grunted. "Lord Tarious got interrupted. Guess he thought I was too injured or stupid to run. He was wrong."

"How injured are you?" Wreyes asked sharply. Tek looked up at him abruptly.

"I'm fine." Tek said, feeling a bit of offense. He refused to be thought weak, however true it might be right now. He changed the subject. "Where's your camp?" What he really wanted to ask was how far; his legs were almost shaking.

"Rather far, I'm afraid. I'm getting too old for this war." Wreyes hissed, feigning stiffness. He would've offered assistance had this been anyone else but he didn't think a Sith, even one as apparently young as this, would take kindly to that.

Tek eyed him and walked more resolutely, getting ahead slightly. "Well then, better save your energy for walking and _not_ talking, if you don't have any more pressing questions for me."

Wreyes wrestled with holding back a smile. Feisty little Sith.


End file.
